Sick
by jane0904
Summary: A little standalone piece of Rick/Kate fluff to tide you over before the next story finally arrives. Rick is in sore need of some tender, loving care, but all he gets is Kate.


"Go away."

"No."

He rolled over in bed and glared at her. "Why not?"

"Because it makes a change for the shoe to be on the other foot." Kate Beckett smiled.

Rick Castle, famed author, noted man about town, sneezed loudly. Wiping his nose with what looked like an over-used tissue, he warned, "You'll catch it."

"I don't catch colds." She sat back in the leather armchair, crossing one heel over the other.

"It's not a cold." He glared. "It's swine flu."

"Really."

"You're smirking."

She stopped her lips from curving. "Smirk? I never smirk. Unlike some people."

His eyes narrowed, and he would have made some suitably snarky comment, but he coughed instead, long and hard, eventually falling back onto the pillow and trying to breathe. "God," he managed to groan.

"Anyway, how do you know it's swine flu?" Kate wanted to know. "Has your doctor said so?"

"No," Rick admitted.

"What did he say it was?"

"He said it was a cold." He pointed at her with a wavering hand. "But I know a cold when I have one!"

"So you got a second opinion."

He glared again. "What if I did?"

"And he said it was a cold, too."

"What, were you hanging around outside?" he accused.

She couldn't hide the smile this time. "I know you, Castle. And besides, you're a man."

"So?"

"You have an ingrowing toenail and it's gout. You have a headache and it's a fatal brain tumour. You can't possibly have a cold. It has to be flu."

"You wouldn't say that if you had it." He wiped his nose again, then saw the state of the tissue. He tossed it towards the bin, missing but ignoring it lying on the carpet. Patting the bed he tried to find the rest of the box, whimpering slightly.

"Hold on." Kate got to her feet and moved the bedspread, finding the tissues underneath. She handed them to him.

"Shoot me."

"What?"

"Shoot me." He looked into her face, his normally blue eyes instead red and crusty. "Do the decent thing and put me out of my misery."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"You keep threatening to."

"Well, I am armed." She moved her jacket enough so he could see the gun at her hip.

"Then shoot me." He tried to look pathetic, difficult when he was pathetic enough in the first place. "Please."

"No."

"Call yourself a friend." He turned his head and stared at the ceiling. "Huh."

"I can't recall those words ever passing my lips."

"Then give me the gun and I'll do the job."

"No."

Another sneeze burst from him, and he grabbed a fresh handful of tissues from the box. Flopping back he looked as miserable as she'd ever seen him, and somewhere inside her a tiny flame of concern flared.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." She stood looking down at him, her hands on her hips. "If you sit up, you'll be able to breathe better."

"I can't."

"What is it about men?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. Instead she leaned forward and put her arms under his, locking her hands behind his back. She tugged, but he didn't move. "You have to help," she said.

"What?"

She looked down, saw where his gaze was. "Castle."

"Sorry." He pushed with his feet until he was leaning forwards.

Kate let go and quickly rearranged the pillows behind him, pressing him back gently.

"Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome."

"And it wasn't my fault I got a faceful of cleavage."

She did her best not to glance down, realising perhaps she shouldn't have worn this particular blouse. Instead she asked, "Have you had anything to eat?"

His face screwed up. "Don't even mention the word."

"What word? Food?"

He groaned. "Don't."

"Hasn't Martha been keeping your strength up? Chicken broth, or whatever it is Broadway divas survive on when they're sick?"

"Martinis," Rick supplied, somewhat indistinctly as he buried his nose in the tissues again. "With whiskey chasers."

"I don't think alcohol is going to be a good idea," Kate said, her eyes slightly closed as she mused. "Where are they, anyway?"

"They left me!" He flopped back onto the pillows, the action slightly ruined because of Kate's ministrations as he couldn't exactly fall very far.

"Left you."

"My mother is off gallivanting with some of her cronies at some male strip club or other." Rick grimaced. "Why does anyone want to look at naked men?"

"Why do men want to look at naked women?" Kate countered then went on before he could tell her in excruciating detail. "So Alexis is at school?"

"I told her she had to. She wanted to stay and look after me, but I don't want her to catch it."

"So she didn't exactly abandon you."

"Well ... maybe not in the strictest sense." He sneezed again, making her step sharply back. "But I'm still on my own."

"Not any more." Kate shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it back onto the armchair. "I'm going to make you something to eat, then you can take a nap."

The thought of food make him feel queasy. "Kate, I warn you …"

"And then perhaps we'll see about a bed bath."

He brightened up. "Really?"

"I had an aunt who was a nurse. She used to swear at freezing water with ice cubes in it to bring down that temperature. On a sponge. Inside the pyjama bottoms."

Rick's crotch tried to hide in the mattress. "Kate …"

"But you told me," she said, smiling brightly. "It's flu. Perhaps worse. It might even be pneumonia by now."

"I'm feeling better," he whined.

"Of course you are." She leaned forward, patting him on the shoulder. "That's a brave soldier."

He glared at her. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." She rubbed her hands together. "Besides. This will be fun. I always did like looking after my dolls when they were sick. But food first." She walked out of the bedroom.

"Sadist!" Rick shouted, then coughed wildly again.

Kate grinned. He wasn't really that bad, and it wouldn't be long before he was back on his annoying, infuriating feet, but she was going to have a good time getting her own back for a while. Just a little.


End file.
